In the Wake

by Lisa Kron

DANNY (Taking from the box a Pilgrim hat, putting it on): Tis family tradition.

  KAYLA: Tis.

  DANNY (Handing a Pilgrim collar to Kayla): Prudence, for thee. (And one to Ellen) Mistress Quickly? Laurie, come out here. You don’t have a Pilgrim collar.

  LAURIE (Reentering): No, you know what I have instead?

  DANNY: What?

  LAURIE: Dignity. Okay, the turkey probably has . . . a half hour-ish . . . So . . . Ice.

  DANNY: Okay, prepare yourself—I’m thinking we should put it in the tub.

  LAURIE: Genius.

  DANNY: Well, you don’t learn shit like that at a SUNY school, do you?

  LAURIE: Oh. You Oberlin motherfucker! You know what? That school is in Ohio, man. It’s in Ohio. You know what I’m saying?

  DANNY: Yes. That’s why they call it “The Harvard of the Midwest.” Race you downstairs.

  LAURIE (Scoffs): Right. Like I’m gonna race. (Suddenly makes a break for it) Sucker!

  DANNY: Oh, I don’t think so.

  (He blasts out the door after her. We hear them chasing each other down the stairs, laughing. Kayla and Ellen look at each other.)

  ELLEN: Just for a minute.

  (They turn the TV back on. They’re immediately sucked in.)

  KAYLA: I don’t think they’re coming back.

  ELLEN: They’re just getting ice.

  KAYLA: No, the Florida Supreme Court.

  ELLEN: Oh right. Fuck.

  (They remain glued to the TV as Laurie and Danny burst back in, laughing, with big bags of ice.)

  DANNY: I win!

  LAURIE: I won! Oh my God, those stairs!

  KAYLA: WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT, YOU ASSHOLE!?

  ELLEN: IF IT WAS CLEAR HE’D WON THERE WOULDN’T BE A RECOUNT!

  LAURIE: Oh no. (To Danny) I cannot take a whole day of that.

  ELLEN (Eyes not leaving the TV): We’re turning it off, Laurie. We’re going to turn it off right now.

  KAYLA: We’re turning it off now, honey. (Reaching for the remote) Here.

  ELLEN (Reluctantly): Okay.

  (Kayla snatches the remote and turns off the TV. To Laurie:)

  Your girlfriend is bossy.

  LAURIE: Do you want to rephrase that?

  ELLEN: Your girlfriend is really bossy.

  (Laurie grabs Ellen’s thumb and bends it back.)

  Ow!

  LAURIE: I cannot believe you. Say it.

  ELLEN: Ow! What?

  LAURIE: Say it!

  ELLEN: Ow! Okay. Wife, wife, wife, wife, wife!

  LAURIE: Don’t do it again.

  (She play-attacks Ellen.)

  ELLEN: Ow. Danny, protect me!

  (Danny dives into the pile.)

  DANNY: Leave my woman alone, you she-devils!

  LAURIE: Get off . . . Ow!

  ELLEN: Ow! Ow!

  KAYLA: Ow! My leg is crushed!

  (Judy enters, looking like hell in slept-in clothes, and watches the screaming, laughing, wrestling group until, one by one, they realize she’s there. A beat.)

  JUDY: I was gonna take a shower. The tub’s full of ice.

  DANNY: Oh! Sorry, Judy. I’ll take care of it.

  (Danny exits to the bathroom. Judy follows him. Kayla and Laurie look at Ellen.)

  KAYLA: She’s going someplace, right?

  ELLEN: She is. She’s going to her sister’s in Kentucky.

  KAYLA: But today.

  ELLEN: I think she’s gonna be with us today.

  (Kayla and Laurie exchange a look.)

  What? Is that all right?

  KAYLA: What are we supposed to say, Ellen?

  ELLEN: I know, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I thought she was going right to Kentucky. But she got in really late last night.

  KAYLA: And she assumed she was invited to spend Thanksgiving with us?

  ELLEN: No, she didn’t know it was Thanksgiving. She’s been in Sierra Leone for, like, the past nine months and she had to come back so suddenly. I don’t think she even knew what day it is.

  KAYLA: But now that she knows, doesn’t she want to be with her own family?

  ELLEN: She doesn’t get along with her family.

  KAYLA: I don’t get along with her.

  ELLEN: Oh, Kayla.

  KAYLA: I don’t like her.

  ELLEN: Kayla!

  KAYLA: What? (Off Ellen’s look) Okay, I like her. It’s the big: “I grew up really poor and now I’m an aid worker in Africa so I know the world is really fucked-up in ways you middle-class liberals can’t imagine” stick she’s got up her ass that I don’t like.

  (We hear the shower running. Danny reenters.)

  DANNY: I put the ice in the sink.

  ELLEN: She came back to the States because her mother just died.

  KAYLA: Oh. Great. Now I have to be nice to her.

  DANNY: And . . . welcome to Thanksgiving, ladies and gentlemen!

  ELLEN: Kayla.

  KAYLA: I’m sorry. What I meant to say is, I really enjoy her warm company, she’s totally interesting and she does really important work.

  ELLEN: And that’s true.

  KAYLA: I know, Ellen. I temp at the same not-for-profit organizations you // do—

  ELLEN: I know, I know—

  KAYLA (Continuing): I also know plenty of people who do human rights work, but they don’t look down on you if you’re not up to date on every aspect of the political situation in whatever country they’re working in.

  ELLEN: Okay, I know she can be a little intense // sometimes.

  LAURIE: A little?

  ELLEN: I know. But I’m intense.

  LAURIE: Not like her.

  KAYLA: Not like she is.

  ELLEN: Sure I am.

  KAYLA: No, you’re not. Judy’s a . . . // a . . .

  LAURIE: She’s a total freaking buzz-kill.

  KAYLA: Yes. And you . . . // are . . .

  LAURIE: You just talk too much.

  DANNY (Appreciative color commentary): Harsh toke.

  LAURIE: What? She knows she talks too much.

  ELLEN (Agreeing. It’s a simple fact): I do.

  LAURIE: The bottom line is she’s not particularly relaxing to be around.

  ELLEN: Well, Laurie, you’re never relaxed with anyone outside your own demographic.

  LAURIE: What?

  ELLEN: Tell me who you socialize with who’s not just like you?

  LAURIE: You. Straight. // Eew.

  ELLEN: Shut. Up.

  KAYLA: The bottom line is you should have asked us.

  ELLEN: I know. I know. I screwed up. I kept thinking something would—you know, that she’d have some plan for today. But she’s not close to anybody else here, really. Her mother died. But you’re right, you’re right, you’re right. You know what? (Sincere) I’m going to ask her to go to a diner.

  KAYLA: Ellen!

  ELLEN: I’m sorry.

  JUDY (Offstage, calling from the bathroom): Is there a towel?

  KAYLA (To Ellen): Mad!

  ELLEN: I’ll get one for you.

  (She exits.)

  DANNY: And the Pilgrims and the Indians sat down together in a feast of peace, and God rewarded the Pilgrims with shiny // buckles on their shoes and to the Indians he gave maize—

  ELLEN (Reentering): Hush. Hush. Hush. Hush. By the way, for the record, Laurie, I’ve been with girls.

  LAURIE (Laughing): Oh, yeah.

  ELLEN: What? I have.

  KAYLA: One girl. In college. You made out.

  ELLEN: Two! (Kayla scoffs) Two! One of whom I dated for a month!

  LAURIE: A whole month? News flash: you’re married to a man!

  ELLEN: I’m with Danny and we’re not married.

  DANNY: And Danny’s . . . not a man? . . .

  ELLEN: Honey, you are so manly! You make Arnold Schwarzenegger look like a little girl.

  (Danny makes muscles and bares his teeth. Judy enters.)

  JUDY: What time is it?

  ELLEN: Hey, honey.

  DANNY: It’s 4:30.
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  ELLEN: Come in, sit down.

  JUDY: Jesus Christ. I slept for . . . seventeen hours.

  ELLEN: Long trip. You’re totally jet-lagged.

  JUDY: Wow, that’s incredible. I never fucking sleep. Does anyone have a light?

  ELLEN: Oh, honey. I’m so sorry. You can smoke on the fire escape if you want.

  JUDY (A deep sigh of irritation): Okay. (Muttering to herself on her way to the window) One good thing about a refugee camp—there may not be clean water but you can fucking smoke.

  (She climbs out onto the fire escape and closes the window behind her. A beat.)

  KAYLA: You’re right. I was wrong. She’s really fun.

  ELLEN: Oh, Kayla.

  DANNY: Laurie! Turkey.

  LAURIE: Oh! Right. (A weary sigh, as she contemplates the stairs)

  ELLEN: I’ll go down and check it for you.

  LAURIE: Oh yeah? Check it for what?

  ELLEN (Sheepish): I can see if it’s still there.

  LAURIE: I Hate Living Here.

  ELLEN: Oh, you don’t.

  LAURIE: Five flights, Ellen.

  ELLEN: You only live on three. Wait, that’s not my strongest argument.

  DANNY: Laurie. New plan.

  LAURIE (Loves this game!): New plan. Go.

  DANNY: I’m thinking—hear me out—you and I . . . are leaving the East Village and moving to . . . Ready? The Bronx.

  KAYLA (No way!): The Bronx!

  ELLEN: You gotta be kidding!

  LAURIE (To Kayla and Ellen): You’re not coming. Just us. (Back to Danny) Go on.

  DANNY: An industrial ruin with good bones . . .

  LAURIE: Love. Catering kitchen?

  DANNY: Bien sur! And . . . on the roof? Full suburban yard.

  KAYLA (Sucked into the dream): For Slip ’N’ Slide?

  DANNY: Perhaps.

  LAURIE (To Kayla): Oh, you want to come now?

  KAYLA: If there’s Slip ’N’ Slide.

  ELLEN: Hey, what about me?

  LAURIE: You love it here.

  DANNY: She might want to come, though—because I could build for you—

  ELLEN: What?

  DANNY: Especially for you . . .

  ELLEN: What?

  DANNY: A soundproofed NPR listening room!!

  ELLEN: Danny!

  DANNY: That’s how much I love you.

  ELLEN (Putting her arms around Danny and kissing him): You are a kook. That sounds very (Kiss) very (Kiss) very (Kiss) nice. (Kiss)

  (Judy returns and plops in a chair.)

  DANNY: My lady’s totally into me, Judy. You see that?

  JUDY: I see it. Is there any possibility of getting some coffee?

  DANNY: There is, indeed. How do you take it?

  JUDY: In an IV?

  DANNY: All right, then.

  ELLEN: Oh wait, I bought good coffee.

  (She follows Danny into the kitchen. Judy just stares, a little out of it. Kayla and Laurie wait, uncomfortably, for Judy to acknowledge them. A long beat.)

  KAYLA: Hey, Judy.

  (A beat. No response.)

  It’s nice to see you again.

  ELLEN (Coming from the kitchen to drop off spoons and napkins): Oh. You remember Kayla, Danny’s sister? And her partner—wife, wife, wife—Laurie?

  JUDY: Oh, yeah. Hi. How’re you doing?

  (Ellen returns to the kitchen.)

  KAYLA: We’re glad you could join us today. How are you doing?

  JUDY: Aside from feeling I’ve been run over by a tank? I’m peachy.

  (Beat.)

  KAYLA: So you got back—when?

  JUDY: Uh . . . Uh . . . Wednesday.

  KAYLA: Yesterday.

  JUDY: Yesterday . . . Yeah. So. Yeah.

  KAYLA: We’re very sorry to hear about your mother.

  JUDY (A small bitter laugh): Oh. Yeah. I mean, thanks.

  (Beat.)

  KAYLA: Ellen was saying you just got back from Sierra Leone.

  (Ellen returns.)

  JUDY: Guinea.

  ELLEN: Oh, I thought you said Sierra Leone.

  KAYLA: Oh, I . . .

  JUDY (Matter of fact): The refugees are from Sierra Leone. Well, most of them. Some are Liberians, but most of them came up from Sierra Leone because they were being terrorized by the RUF—the Revolutionary United Front—obviously—and now they’re being terrorized by the Guinean security // forces—

  DANNY (Returning with Judy’s coffee): Here you go.

  JUDY: Thanks—so they’re heading back to Sierra Leone where they’ll be terrorized again by the RUF and then they’ll come back to Guinea and . . . you know.

  KAYLA: Yes. It’s really . . . terrible. Or . . . I mean . . .

  DANNY (A rhetorical question designed to charm and cajole Judy): Say, Judy, one of my students told me that Guinea is known as the “Switzerland of Africa.” Is that true?

  ELLEN: Danny—

  JUDY (Bemused): Why yes, I believe there are those who refer to it as the “Switzerland of Africa.” One of your students told you that? Is he Guinean?

  DANNY: No, I believe he’s Bed-Stuyvean.

  ELLEN: It was Antwan, wasn’t it?

  KAYLA: Oh! Antwan!

  LAURIE: Oh my God I love that kid.

  ELLEN: Tell Judy about Antwan. (Prodding him. She loves this story) Tell her what he wore for his report.

  DANNY: Well, Judy, young Antwan gave his report on Guinea wearing a cocktail dress he’d made himself out of kente cloth.

  JUDY: Wow.

  DANNY: Yes. If he had any self-awareness at all he’d be the gay Rosa Parks of junior high.

  ELLEN: Judy, you can’t imagine how good Danny is with these kids.

  DANNY: Yeah, yeah, yeah . . .

  ELLEN (To Kayla): Why? Why does he scoff?

  KAYLA: No, I know.

  ELLEN: Why can he not accept what a great teacher he is?

  DANNY (Mock serious): I’m an astonishing teacher, Judy.

  ELLEN: You are! Judy, you should see how the kids look at him. It’s like he’s . . . like he’s . . . King of the Teachers.

  DANNY (Gazing into the middle distance): King . . . of the Teachers . . .

  ELLEN: Okay—

  DANNY: I like that.

  ELLEN: Okay, never mind. Go back to what you were saying // about Guinea.

  DANNY: I was saying . . . ? I don’t remember. I was crowned King of the Teachers . . . and it all // went black . . .

  ELLEN: Judy, you must be hungry.

  JUDY: Ich! No. I’d like some wine . . .

  ELLEN (A bit taken aback): Oh, okay.

  JUDY: I brought a bottle of wine for you. Didn’t I hand it to you last night? (Spying it across the room) Oh. There.

  (Ellen retrieves it.)

  LAURIE: Can I see that? (Taking the bottle) This is a great bottle of wine.

  (Danny takes it to pour Judy a glass.)

  JUDY (Shrugs): Yes, French-speaking Africa has its amenities. Chad may be a shithole worse than Haiti, but the croissants are divine.

  LAURIE: Really?

  JUDY: Better than Paris.

  LAURIE: Hey, Danny, I’ll have some of that.

  KAYLA: Me, too.

  ELLEN: Yeah, me, too.

  JUDY (Inspecting the snacks on the coffee table. Pointing to one): I’ll take some of that now. What is it?

  ELLEN: It’s Laurie’s famous artichoke dip.

  JUDY (Suddenly recoiling): Oh. Never mind.

  (Small beat.)

  Oh, by the way, I keep forgetting to ask, who’s the new president?

  (Beat. No one knows how to respond. Is she joking?)

  DANNY: Well, I’m King of the Teachers.

  (A beat.)

  JUDY: No, but who is it?

  ELLEN: Are you serious?

  JUDY: Yeah.

  KAYLA: Do you not get news there?

  JUDY: American news? Not much.

  ELLEN: The election isn’t settled.

  JUDY: Whaddya mean?

  ELLEN: Do you r
eally not know this? Florida’s contested and they’re trying to figure out how to recount. It’s a mess.

  DANNY: I’m pissed at Gore.

  ELLEN: Gore??

  KAYLA: Oh, Danny!

  DANNY: Yeah. All he had to do was appear to be a reasonable facsimile of a human, and instead he was like some freaky, obsequious robot.

  LAURIE: Obsequious Robot! I love that band!

  (Danny sings a riff of a made-up song as the made-up band Obsequious Robot.)

  ELLEN: It’s actually really bad, Judy.

  LAURIE (Weary of this argument before it’s even happened): It’s a mess, but it’s always a fucking mess.

  KAYLA: Yeah, but a lot is on the line this time. Bush sucks.

  LAURIE: He does suck, but I think they both suck.

  ELLEN: They’re really, really not equivalent, Laurie.

  LAURIE (To Judy): They’re pissed off at me because I voted for Nader.

  KAYLA: That’s not true. You can vote for whoever you want to vote for.

  ELLEN: I’m fine about it. New York’s not a swing state.

  DANNY (To Judy): I voted for Angelina Jolie.

  LAURIE: Who’d you vote for, Judy?

  KAYLA: Laurie!

  LAURIE: What? I’m curious.

  JUDY: I didn’t vote.

  ELLEN: Not absentee?

  KAYLA: She was in Sierra Leone—Guinea, Guinea.

  LAURIE: Listen, between the two of them I hope Gore wins, but people were freaked out about Nixon, they were freaked out about Reagan, and in the end it didn’t really make that much of a difference.

  JUDY (An aside to whomever): I think the Chileans and the Nicaraguans might argue with you on that point.

  ELLEN: Exactly.

  LAURIE: All right, whatever. I’m just telling you my opinion. They’re both in the pocket of the corporations, they’re both equally unfriendly to gay people—

  ELLEN: The Democrats may not be stellar on gay issues but // they’re certainly better than—

  LAURIE: Bill Clinton crawled up the asses of gay voters // before the election, and the first thing he did in office was Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.

  DANNY: Gay voters love that. Seriously.

  ELLEN: Yes, that sucked. But you do know the Religious Right // wants much worse than that.

  LAURIE: All I’m saying is that Democrats and Republicans play exactly the same games. For instance—let’s be real about this whole manual recount thing.

  ELLEN (Surely Laurie’s not saying what it sounds like she’s saying): What?